


blue anymore

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, M/M, NOT REALISTIC DIALOGUE TBH, No Beta, dug it up from somewhere a few years ago, it might be a rough read because i'm leaving it unedited, kenma and hinata are both going through rough patches, so it is not something that should represent depression in general, they both speak poetically, this is being taken from my OWN experiences with it, weather-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: hinata has his ice cream man; kenma can't let go of the time he had to sit by himself and count the leaves.





	blue anymore

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys yall already know what the fuck is going on
> 
> before i start, i'd like to say that the way hinata and kenma react to situations and dialogue may not be completely believable. sorry about it. something else: they wax fuckin poetic please indulge me and give me a pity kudos for the unrealistic dialogue

kenma brings his hand up to knock on hinata’s door. the earthy smell of rain-soaked concrete greets him each time he draws in a breath. his eyes are itchy.

 

_creak._

 

a pair of eyes peek out at him—a small hand latches onto his wrist. pale wood catches at the corner of his peripheral vision and then blurs past him and he welcomes the warm embrace of the house.

 

“kenma, you’re—”

 

hinata pushes him an arm’s length away, and for a millisecond kenma sees a dismayed frown on his face. he lets his head drop to the side.

 

_don’t look don’t look don’t look._

 

“—crying.”

 

“i’m okay.” he offers the response weakly; hinata doesn’t believe him.

 

“you’re not.” there it is. there’s the persistence that follows him around every corner, there’s the itch in his palm when they hold hands.

 

“i’m fine.” kenma feels hinata’s arms sag and then strengthen again. they’re shaking. he can’t shut the door.

 

“no, you’re not!”

 

“i’m okay.” 

 

hinata whimpers and pulls him close. the action sets kenma off and his knees buckle and so do shoyo’s. he’s caught in a heap of arms. kenma claws his way into a sitting position and tries to say something but all that comes out are parched tears. hinata’s forehead drops forward onto his shoulder and water soaks through his jacket sleeve.

 

_don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry._

 

he’s crying.

 

kenma doesn’t know how long they sit there on the floor but it’s long enough for the cold to seep into his toes and the tips of his fingers, and to make him shiver. it’s long enough for them to wring out all their emotions and hang them to dry.

 

“what happened?” hinata speaks first.

 

“i don’t know.” kenma’s voice is cracked and his eyelids are puffy.

 

“again, huh?” hinata chokes out a dry chuckle. “i’m sorry.”

 

“it’s okay.”

 

“it isn’t, is it?” quiet falls between them for a few minutes until hinata ruffles its feathers. “what do we do now?”

 

feeling at a loss for words, kenma stands up and offers a hand to hinata.

 

he sighs heavily.

 

they’re standing too far apart.

 

“hmm.” it’s the quiet hum kenma always gives hinata when he doesn’t know what to do. a shaft of sunlight slaps him in the face, momentarily blinding him. “i think i’ll go home.”

 

“and what? am i going to smile through it again?” hinata’s voice is quiet, subdued. cautious.

 

“i guess,” kenma responds quietly. “and i will, too.”

 

he pretends not to hear hinata sniffling when he slams the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

it's raining again when kenma shows up to the park. hinata’s there, too, slouched forward in one of the wooden benches.

 

he picks up his pace by a fraction and comes to a halt before shoyo’s feet.

 

hinata looks up. a smile stretches across his face, and although it's no different from his usual one, the expression strikes kenma as horribly ugly.

 

kozume smiles too and the shadows grow darker when he sits down. their hands brush against each other and kenma pulls his away because it's too close for him. he adjusts the umbrella in his hand and makes room for hinata to sit under the wide plastic brim.

 

hinata's breath comes out in plumes and screams of life and of eagerness.

 

kenma’s is barely a whisper.

 

the shock of orange hair bobs slightly and he looks over.

 

“are we going to talk about it?” hinata still sounds too quiet. kenma tries to shake the water out of his ears.

 

“i guess.”

 

“okay, then. i’ll start. when did you start crying so much?”

 

kozume gives him a light shrug and casts his eyes toward the clouds. “don't know.”

 

he hears a frustrated grunt from beside him and flinches slightly. 

 

_you can do better than that, can't you?_

 

“why do you cry?”

 

the wind shifts, and rain paints kenma's face with clarity. his eyelashes become heavier to hold up and it's a while until he can arrange the jigsaw of words in his head.

 

“feelings. because i'm not happy. because…”

 

_just because,_ he wants to say. but that's not good enough. it doesn't explain enough.

 

colors sing in his head. they're called red and orange and orange and orange and they're called sweetness.

 

the colors remind him of when hinata left him waiting at the train station. he'd collected leaves that day while he sat through the absence. maple, maple, maple, hinata.

 

a drop of water leaks through his umbrella and the world is blue again.

 

blue like the sky blue like fall like hinata like maple leaves under the sunset like the logo on the last train like the sun kissing the sky goodnight like the dry wind on fading puddles like love like maple leaves and gum on the train tracks.

 

there's a weight on kenma's shoulder and he knows that it's hinata. water sloshes around in his shoes and the air is too wet to breathe in.

 

a halo of mist surrounds shoyo’s head and kenma parts his lips.

 

“beautiful.”

 

the humidity swallows and deadens his word and when hinata doesn't reply he starts to wonder if he ever said it in the first place.

 

“you, too.”

 

the sentence comes and it is a blessed confirmation and he relaxes his posture for the first time today.

 

his mind is collecting soggy leaves from the sidewalk. he’s waiting for hinata.

 

“maybe we can forget this,” hinata suggests.

 

kenma almost nods.

 

_but i don't want to._

 

his head stays still.

 

it's all up there, anyway, and if he starts running everything will fall off of the shelves.

 

“maybe we can be happy.” hinata won't meet his eyes. “and we can talk about it when you're done being sad. everything passes, right?”

 

kenma's shocked. shocked and sad and _alone._

 

“people can't get happy by themselves. sometimes they—sometimes they need help.”

 

the toll it takes on kenma to say those words weighs down upon him like the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

 

when hinata looks at him, the only thing he sees is confusion. it's melted chocolate in hinata's eyes, so sweet and so hard to let go of.

 

“but i'm here for you. you can talk to me.”

 

he thinks about maple leaf hinata and misses the fall.

 

* * *

 

it's the first time hinata's ever seen kenma so open with himself.

 

it hurts when he sees kenma crying. it hurts when kenma shows up with puffy eyes and a dazed expression on his face. it hurts when kenma looks at him with a red-rimmed stare and says he's doing great.

 

the ice-cream man scoops a chunk of filling out of him whenever he sees kenma smiling at him now, because he sees nothing but hands reaching for him behind the thin blond hair and bright yellow eyes.

 

and he's terrified, he's clueless.

 

he doesn't know how to make kenma happy.

 

he throws up his feelings at night and wears a smile for kenma, washes the poison off his hands and holds kenma as gently as he can.

 

what else can he do?

 

rain droplets stain his window.

 

_stop crying,_ hinata pleads.

 

“or at least tell me,” he serenades to the empty room. “tell me why you can't really look at me without telling me a lie. tell me how i could help.”

 

he remembers, a few minutes later, that he hasn't been talking at all.

 

hinata opens the window and tries to shoo away the ice cream truck.

 

 

* * *

 

 

the air is dead, save for the pitter-patter of the mist and the sounds of hushed voices.

 

they come out of the only lit bedroom window on the street.

 

kenma's busy telling hinata about the nothing that fills him up and hinata's telling him about the ice cream that strangers scoop out of him.

 

“and whenever i see you standing in the rain it feels like it's swallowing you up.” kenma's voice cracks. “and the sun goes away and it fills me up with water.”

 

hinata's thumb caresses the side of his face.

 

“and right before the rain we were supposed to ride the train together.”

 

he sprawls out on the floor and turns away from shoyo.

 

“and it was fall and the sun was out and everything was pretty like you. but i think you must have had something happen because you didn't show up. and i looked for orange leaves to show you,” kenma croaks, “as kind of a joke. but it got cold and i waited for you and it started raining and it ate me up.”

 

rain kisses his face. or is it hinata?

 

“and then it kept coming, and you never did. and i'm over that now. but the rain makes me feel alone. it doesn't make me feel good. i get cold and my feet get wet and i can't dry out. you don't understand, really, ever. because you're the sun, aren't you? you're the sun and rain can't hurt you.”

 

shoyo reaches down and squeezes his hand.

 

“the ice cream man visits me sometimes and scoops out my feelings. at least, that's what it feels like. and i eat and i eat and i eat but it's all poison and i throw it up and then i don't get hungry anymore. and he keeps coming to scoop ice cream even when the tub is empty. but you don't like sweets so you wouldn't get it.”

 

kenma closes his eyes tight and tells the ice cream man to stop visiting.

 

“but you fill me up when i talk to you. and when you're sad i try not to take anything and then he comes back and tells me to give it up to him.”

 

kozume rests the back of his hand on his forehead. it's wet like the rain. “i know.”

 

“the rain is your ice cream man.”

 

the hollow inside of him twinges and the weather shoves rocks down his throat but tears stay just out of his grasp.

 

he wants to let it out.

 

“yeah.”

 

the rough carpet scratches his arms and legs and he crawls over to shut the window.

 

* * *

 

hinata breathes life into kenma's mouth. it's raining again.

 

but the two are under an umbrella wrapped in each other's embrace and even though the shelter is tipping over it's okay because kissing kenma is like kissing trust. he can taste tears in his mouth. tears like rain, tears like the ocean.

 

hinata lifts his limp arms and wraps them around kozume, pulling him as close as he can. their foreheads press against each other as they take breath from the humid air.

 

kenma's cheeks are red and clammy and so are hinata's, probably, and their noses are running grossly. he brings his sleeve up and wipes both of their faces. 

 

the cheap plastic umbrella clatters to the ground but neither of them take notice.

 

hinata's laughing now and kenma's crying through his broken chuckles. there are a million things hinata wants to say.

 

_i missed you. i love you._

 

but kenma's beautiful right now and he's afraid that his scratchy voice will mar the perfection of the moment.

 

so he just smiles and cries, and brings his lips up to kenma's again and tastes salt and sunshine and water-soaked clothes.

 

the ice cream man watches from his truck. the engine has come to life and now, hinata watched over kenma's shoulder as taillights fade into the vapor.

 

it's cold out but their tears are warm.

 

hinata opens his eyes and sees fire.

 

sunshine ignites their hair and laughter bubbles out of him again.

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so:
> 
> 1\. as i mentioned before this might not be the best i've done—scratch that; it definitely isn't—but that's because it is at least a year old and i am leaving it unedited. i feel as though if i were to change it, it would lose what i had already captured... the feel of the story.
> 
> 2\. the dialogue is so shitty and cliche i know trust me i fucking know but i like it that way
> 
> 3\. mentioned this in the beginning, but the way they reacted is probably a bit out-of-place. forgive me for that, and if y'all have any tips, please share them with me. i am completely open to constructive criticism
> 
> 4\. thanks for reading to the end, if you did. sometimes i get mad at my own writing and quit before i even finish writing something. cheers to this for being one completed work out of twenty that i didn't complete.


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